Gunny Gibbs's Leadership Lessons
by sasha1600
Summary: Part of my 'Lessons' series.  Tag to Capitol Offence.  Warning: spanking of adult.  Don't like?  Don't read!
1. Chapter 1

**Gunny Gibbs's Leadership Lessons**

**Summary:** Part of my 'Lessons' series. Tag to Capitol Offence. **Warning:** spanking of adult. Don't like? Don't read!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them, I just play with them.

* * *

><p>AN: This is part of my 'Lessons' series and builds on a larger plot arc. Please forgive any mistakes about the 'military' parts of this story – it's my first real attempt at writing about Gunny Gibbs 'in the field' and, unlike the writers on the show, I don't have a technical advisor to help with the details!

**Warning: this story contains the disciplinary spanking of an adult. If you have a problem with that, click on that 'back' button now. You've been warned.**

* * *

><p>Senator Patrick Kiley still wasn't entirely sure whether having Gibbs as the lead investigator was a good thing or a bad thing. He could probably count on being given the benefit of the doubt. For a while, at least. But he'd never been able to fool the Gunny for long. And the man's damnable honour would make him come down on him like a ton of bricks if he ever caught on to the deception.<p>

As he slipped from the room, he could hear his Chief of Staff talking to the agents. Cole was telling Gibbs's man how the Gunny had made him look good, when he'd been a green lieutenant overwhelmed by his first command.

Kiley shuddered, remembering just how Gibbs had accomplished that.

X X X

Kiley finished explaining the op and straightened up from the map he'd been hunched over, stretching his back.

Gibbs, damn him, looked like he'd be amused if he weren't so disgusted by Kiley's plan, and proceeded to list all the problems he found with it. It wouldn't work. It would get them all killed. It would give the enemy an advantage that would reverse that last six weeks of effort by American forces.

Kiley stared at him in disbelief, his anger rising by the second. _He_ was the officer here. For all that Gibbs liked to remind him how long he'd been doing this sort of thing, he was only a non-com. It wasn't his place to question his lieutenant, to try to take over control of mission objectives. His job was to do what he was told, and make sure the rest of the enlisted men did the same.

'You have your orders, Gunny,' he interrupted. 'Dismissed.'

Gibbs glared at him before grinding out an ice-laced 'Yes, Sir', turning on his heel, and storming out of the tent.

Without saluting.

Kiley fumed. It made perfect sense for military formalities to be dispensed with when they were out in the open – identifying the officer in the group in such a visible manner, when they didn't know who might be observing them unseen, would be foolish. But there was no such danger within the confines of the tent. Gibbs was being subtly, but deliberately, insubordinate, getting in a final dig to express his displeasure about his commanding officer's plan.

For the life of him, he couldn't understand why Gibbs was considered such a good Marine. The enlisted men seemed to respect him, it was true. But the man was a stubborn pain in the ass,


	2. Chapter 2

Kiley crouched behind the low wall that offered scant protection, his heart pounding, watching the helicopter discharge the rest of his Marines.

This was it, he thought. The moment of truth for his first real battle plan. Taking a deep breath, he gave the signal.

For a moment, everything went smoothly. His Marines moved out, crouching low, moving swiftly and stealthily despite the heavy equipment they carried. They were well trained, he thought, and his plan would...

And then suddenly everything went wrong. Instead of continuing straight ahead towards the shallow ravine they were meant to follow to their target, the Marines veered to the right as single unit, clearly following some pre-arranged plan that Kiley hadn't authorised. He shouted helplessly into his radio, but they either didn't hear him or didn't care. For a brief moment, he considered continuing on in the direction they were supposed to go, but he quickly realised that he no real choice but to change direction and follow blindly after the men who were supposed to be following his orders, and hope he could re-establish control before it was too late to proceed with the operation.

It was half an hour later before he'd managed to catch up to his Marines and shove his way through the seething mass of men to reach the one clearly responsible for this fiasco.

'What in God's name do you think you're doing, Gunny?' he raged, not caring about the audience.

He wasn't sure what kind of reaction he'd expected, but being unceremoniously shushed by his subordinate wasn't it. But before he could open his mouth to protest, Gibbs had clamped his hand over it, and was spinning him around towards a rocky outcropping.

Automatically following the pointing finger with his eyes, he saw that they had been moving parallel to the ravine but were now on higher ground, with a pretty good view of where they were _supposed_ to be, but with enough camouflaging cover that they were nearly invisible to anyone in the ravine itself.

And, from this vantage point, he could see the heavy artillery mounted on either side of the ravine, probably impossible to see from its depths, turning a sharp bend into a

death-trap for anyone below.

Kiley felt a cold hand close around his stomach. Gibbs had been right. They would all have been killed if they'd followed his plan.

To his credit, the Gunny didn't say 'I told you so'. Instead, with a series of rapid hand signals that the Marines had clearly been waiting for, he launched an efficient assault on the gun positions, swiftly neutralising the threat before continuing on in the general direction of their original target.

Kiley stumbled along in stunned silence, hoping he looked like he knew what Gibbs was planning, like this was his plan all along. He felt like he was on autopilot while they stormed the small camp, dealt with the occupants, and made their way, exhausted, back to their rendezvous point.


	3. Chapter 3

Kiley looked up from the report he was trying to write, not surprised to see Gibbs ducking through the low entry to the tent. He'd expected that they would be having the 'I told you so' conversation sooner or later. And he owed the man an apology. If he hadn't been so obnoxiously caught up in the power of his first command, if he'd had enough common sense to listen to the voice of experience no matter what it was wearing on its sleeves, today would have gone a lot more smoothly. And if the Gunny hadn't had the strength of character to do what was right instead of blindly following orders from an idiot, today would have gone a hell of a lot worse.

He was astonished, however, to see the man pulling off his belt. Gibbs folded the strip of leather in half, deposited it on top of the half-written report, and pulled himself to attention.

'Gibbs? What the hell? What...'

'I disobeyed a direct order, Sir. I'm prepared to accept the consequences for my actions.'

'Conseq... Gibbs, for God's sake...' Kiley paused and took a deep breath before continuing, 'Gibbs, you accomplished the mission objective.'

'But not _how_ I was supposed to,' Gibbs insisted.

'You saved all our lives out there today, Gunny. If you'd followed those orders, we'd all be dead.'

'Doesn't matter, Sir.'

'Of course it matters! Gibbs...'

'Sir, the Corps is built on orders and obedience. Any crack in that foundation puts the entire command structure at risk, and we both know it.'

'So you want me to _whip_ you?' he asked incredulously.

'No, Sir.'

Kiley looked at him in confusion. The dramatic gesture with the belt had seemed pretty unambiguous.

'But I prefer it to a court martial.'

'Gibbs, I'm not going to...'

'Yes, Sir, you are. You need to respond to something like this. Officially or unofficially is your call, but you cannot just pretend it didn't happen.'

'Gunny, I can't...'

'I'd prefer that you deal with it off the record. I like being a Marine. And I have a wife and a daughter, and being a sniper doesn't exactly build a lot of job skills that are transferable to other professions.'

Kiley stared at him in disbelief. The man was actually standing there, matter-of-factly trying to convince him to take a belt to him for saving his life?

'How the hell can you expect me to punish you for...'

'Because it's your job, Sir. Discipline is part of being in command.'

'And if I don't want to...'

'You do it anyway. You do it because of the oath you took when you accepted those bars,' Gibbs insisted, nodding at his rank insignia.

The two men stared at each other in silence for a moment that felt like an eternity, before Kiley reluctantly picked up the belt and turned it over in his hand.

'You're sure I can't convince you...'

Gibbs didn't bother to reply, simply stepping closer to the desk and bending over, gripping the edges tightly.

Kiley took a deep breath, hesitated, the brought the belt down half-heartedly on the other man's backside.

'Harder.'

Kiley repeated the action.

'_Harder_, Sir.'

He tried again.

'Sir, I know that even an officer has a stronger arm than that.'

The insult made him snap the belt down firmly in annoyance, and he heard Gibbs hiss sharply before telling him, 'Good. Two dozen, just like that.'

Kiley gaped in astonishment. He couldn't be serious?

Trying not to think about what he was doing, he delivered several more lashes. They seemed to satisfy Gibbs, who made no more demands that he increase the force behind them. He somehow made himself keep going. Again and again he brought the belt down on his subordinate's ass, flinching at every crack of leather against his body.

As much as this was, in theory, about teaching Gibbs a lesson, he realised that it was really about learning for himself what it meant to have the lawful command of other human beings. This man, and all the others, would live or die at his word. They would have suffered the consequences of following his orders. And Gibbs was now suffering the consequences of saying 'no,' even though it had been the right decision. He couldn't imagine a more poignant reminder that his mistakes would be paid for by others, than to have to inflict this punishment.

The Gunny was tougher than any man he knew, but as much as Kiley wanted to believe that the strapping wasn't really hurting him, his ragged breathing and white-clenched knuckles left no doubt about how much pain he was in.

Still, the first strangled cry surprised him, and he stopped. There was only a handful of lashes left in Gibbs's suggested tally. Surely that was enough.

'Finish it, Sir,' Gibbs told him, his voice cracking.

A day earlier, the idea that the Gunny was giving him an order would have been enough to make him deliver a few more strokes from sheer annoyance. But, now, he protested.

'No. Gibbs...'

'Finish. It.'

Swallowing hard against the bile in the back of his throat, he did, drawing audible gasps and grunts with each stroke, then threw the belt onto the desk as if it had burnt his hand.

It seemed like an eternity before Gibbs pushed himself shakily upright, his eyes glassy and his face flushed. To Kiley's amazement, he pulled himself to attention and saluted him sharply.

'Thank you, Sir,' the Gunny said, his voice thick and ragged.

Stunned, he returned the salute automatically. He wanted to ask Gibbs if he was ok, but knew it was a ridiculous – and insulting – question. Instead, he dismissed him, silently hoping that a night's sleep would be enough to lessen the pain.

But he was pretty sure that it would take him a while longer to deal with how he felt himself.

X X X

Kiley shook himself out his reminiscences and hurried down the hall, knowing he needed to keep up the appearance of breaking the news to his wife.

He'd been right. It had taken him a while to really grow into his command, and there had been a lot of bumps in the road. But it had gotten easier once he'd learned to at least consider the advice given to him by the people who worked with him; even if the final decision was his, that didn't mean that they didn't have useful experience he could draw on. And once he'd figured out how to handle the responsibility as well as the authority.

And, he'd learned something else of value during those long months of not really knowing what he was doing, and needing to make sure that his men never saw through his confident front.

Now he just needed to succeed in pulling off another bluff.


End file.
